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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25274962">Enter The Dragon</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintedmango/pseuds/mintedmango'>mintedmango</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dragon! Jaehyun, F/M, Hybird! Jaehyun, Hybrid - Freeform, Hybrid AU, Implied Violence, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Sexual Activities, Mentions of Violence, Profanity, Strippers, Yandere, dancing provocatively, dark themes, eating people, human reader, implied and actual death of a minor character, mentions of cannibalism, mentions of hybrids, mentions of sex workers, mob boss! jaehyun, stripper! reader, strips clubs, the art of stripping, very mature themes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:34:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,572</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25274962</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintedmango/pseuds/mintedmango</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>..."His rings glint in the dim spotlight that was fading on you. Even the smoke rising from in between his “M” shaped lips seems to be more powerful than the weak haze that it cuts through easily. His lips curve up, revealing dimples as his gaze is piercing you. This man is powerful, holding your own gaze like a thumbtack to a piece of paper. His jaw is sharp, his cheekbones high as he hardly blinks, holding you firmly in place as you almost forget to do your job, righting yourself to your feet as the noises from the crowd swells. Pieces of his electric blue hair dangle over his eyes, making your breathing hitch in your throat..."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaehyun x You, Jung Jaehyun x Reader, Jung Jaehyun x You, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Reader, jaehyun x reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Enter The Dragon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Something about the way the water ran down the side of your shower made you frown. You stare, watching it closely, fingers untangling themselves from atop your head as you watch the bead of water drip from the wall. It snaked its way down, trickling in various patterns across the bathroom tile, as you make a mental note to clean on your off day tomorrow. You didn’t have a reason to narrow your eyes in skepticism at the clear beads of liquid that drizzled down that side of the tile just made you anxious. Standing under the shower head wasn’t helping either like you thought it would. No. The water which you look forward to normally isn’t cleansing or purifying you in any way. Clarity was escaping you in this moment. </p><p>You were nervous.</p><p>Okay, you think blinking rapidly, shaking your wet locks slightly. You had been nervous for the past two days.</p><p>You squirt some conditioner and run it through the ends of your hair. It honestly didn’t really matter what your hair looked like, it was going under a wig once it was dry anyway. You couldn’t stand the lingering smell of cigarette and cigar smoke that seemingly becomes trapped in the fibers and wefts of fake hair you wear to conceal your identity. It was as if the noxious vapor wrapped it’s invisible, toxic hand around your strands and fibers of your clothes and refused to let go. </p><p>It makes you grit your teeth as you rinse your hair, your conversation with your mentor-like coworker you had a few days ago. It made your breakfast turn in your stomach, not settling nicely as you prepare for work in a quiet, anxious ball of twisted, dark thoughts. </p><p>‘Have you been able to get a hold of Dolly at all?’ Misty asks you before you began your shift the other day. </p><p>You turn to her with a frown as you finish pulling up your black thigh-high boots in the dim back room. You were ready to go perform a more upbeat version of Blondie’s These Boots Were Made For Walking tonight, opting for a long, straight blonde wig besides your usual red or brunette faux locks. </p><p>Dolly was one of the newer hires that had proven to be successful at the popular nightclub you all dance in, the Club Irregular. She was as innocent and naive as a young, troubled girl could be. She was from a little town in the middle of nowhere, running away from her abusive family, and often played up the stereotypical “country” or “southern belle” bit when she was on stage. Her freckles, pigtails, and infectious smile turned out to be refreshing for the club that was used to electronic remixes of girls doing the same performances to the same song. </p><p>She had taken to you like butter does to toast, asking you about your routines and how she could improve with her “waitressing” skills. She was like the little sister you never had, constantly texting you, being interested in everything you place your fingers into, stealing your props for her stage...she definitely broke your normally cold exterior. </p><p>It wasn’t that you hated or disliked your other co-workers. But, in the business you have chosen to pursue, it’s every lady for herself and these streets are rough. You didn’t partake in some of the other raunchy behaviors they choose to like hard drugs and sleeping with Big Mike, the owner of the club, and his bouncers. You didn’t hate them no. You just wished to leave your night job as your night job and not hang out with them outside of the club. </p><p>Admittedly, you were fond of Dolly. You truly liked her a lot, even though she was loud and smoked way too many cigarettes…</p><p>Cigarettes…Dolly…</p><p>‘No, I haven’t seen or talked to her lately.’ Your brows furrow behind the leather mask you have tied around your eyes. ‘Why what’s wrong?’ You ask your raven-haired co-worker as you get queued to take your mark by the stage coordinator. Due to your day job of being a nanny, you have limited your nightly schedule to dancing Thursday-Saturday. You were still one of the highest grossing entertainers in the club so Big Mike didn’t have any problems with your schedule change. </p><p>‘She hasn’t been here for her shifts and hasn’t answered the phone no matter how many times we have called it.’ Misty states over the whooping and hollering beyond the main stage where Roxy-Lynn was performing. Misty’s pretty tan face was painted with worry, her rich brown eyes lit with fire behind them, but it wasn’t passion or drive. It was concern. </p><p>Your mouth parts in shock. </p><p>With a hard gulp down your dry throat, your stomach drops as your mind immediately jumps to Jennifer and Cupid. Jenny was a new dancer too, having started about a year ago, coming up missing a few months ago. Before her was Cupid, a foreign bombshell from a tiny island in the middle of the Pacific ocean. The only connection was that these women were both still young and missing. The police didn’t give a rats ass about people in the industry and that was just a hard fact. You feared the worst for your co-workers because of the lapse of time and the missing persons case seemingly being an empty, dead end with no clues and nothing to be done about the situation. </p><p>It makes you shiver if you imagined Dolly being in the same position.</p><p>‘Maybe she ran back to her farm so she can play in the pig pen?’ Candy snickers as she saunters up behind you two, smiling as she floats by on her platform heels. </p><p>You were praying that Dolly has just run away back to her farm, keeping her pigtails and freckles pure. </p><p>Your frown deepens into a grimace. With a sigh, turning over your slightly pruning palms over, you turn the valve to the side, cutting off the sprinkling water from above your head, leaving your body to be dripping in the shower basin, shaking your head from the dark, heavy thoughts that plagued your mind…What if they-?</p><p>You step out of the tub, wrapping yourself in fluffy towels hung up next to you No. Stop. Dolly was going to be fine. Misty and Roxy-Lynn, and Amber everyone else at Club Irregular were going to be fine. You were going to be fine.</p><p>This was your favorite part about your job - getting ready you think rubbing yourself in your glittering, vanilla scented lotion. You didn’t want to taint this process with fear gnawing at every edge of your mind, freeing it until it was simple fragile strands that float in the waves of your brain matter. </p><p>You were going to be fine.</p><p>They upped their security and Big Mike even placed a few new cameras in, as well as outside, Club Irregular. You have to remind yourself through your mid-afternoon routine of getting ready for the night. The probability that someone would…No! </p><p>Okay, time to crank on your favorite music and let go. </p><p>You check the time on your phone as you unplug everything from their sockets, making sure the stove wasn’t on or something bizarre to quell your anxious thoughts. </p><p>An hour to go. It takes you about a half an hour to get you to the club and you liked to psych yourself up in the car with some music on the way there. </p><p>You glance at your red wig in the mirror as you slide into your sneakers, duffel bag full of your clothes, props, and heels ready to go for your stage tonight. Full, voluminous, and finished with big curls at the end - this wig was one of your favorites you save for your special Jessica Rabbit inspired routines. </p><p>In the front room of your apartment, the tiny television you own was spouting the news, explaining a series of robberies they think are connected to a small gang that has roots outside of this town. It goes on about the gang of hybrids - genetically modified people who have either injected themselves with animal blood or have been born and mutated with their genes somehow. They think of themselves better than “regular” humans and call themselves gods. You call them pathetic, weak excuses for humans - you never liked when people messed with mother nature and her creations.</p><p>You roll your eyes as you click the tv off, flicking off the lights, and lock your door to your apartment.</p><p>Little did you know, this would be the last time you would set foot in your third story space. </p><p>——<br/>
“Vintage!” The thunderous roar of your boss bellows through the backstage as the night was winding down - or heating up depending on how you look at it. You're surprised you can hear anything in this dressing room due to the laughing and giggling by the girls, the thumping bass from the main stage, the roar of gentlemen beyond the curtain and the bickering of the twins - Stacy and Lacy - you are sat in the middle of. “VINTAGE!” He calls again and you want to sigh. </p><p>Me? You ponder in your head as the girls coo and call to your boss and his two bodyguards, Francisco and Antonio, that were with him at all times. (And you swear they have the hots for the twins, but you can’t blame them. Everything is hotter in pairs.) </p><p>He - Big Mike - hardly ever comes down here during the show, watching from the mixing booth which was a great eagle eye spot for the club. So, then what could he want? It’s just your stage and then normally it would be Dolly, and the big finish with Candy, but it was just you and Candy tonight - the other girls finishing up for the evening and leaving for the night. </p><p>Oh...Dolly...Your heart races as it grips in on itself in agony. </p><p>You raise your free arm wrapped in a silk purple glove as you add a little beauty mark above your glossy red lips with the other hand, popping them in the mirror as Big Mike comes up behind you with a single trimmed red rose in his hand. </p><p>He smiles as he places it into the side of your wig where you had swept the ginger-colored strands with some bobby-pins. Your painted eyebrow raises as he looks at you fondly in the mirror. You know that Big Mike has a big heart, being the best people in town to work for in this business. You had also been here for almost as long as Misty, the self-proclaimed mom of the group. But you also know Big Mike well enough that he doesn’t do charity work, his large hands mixing in the waters of some dangerous and powerful people that keep the club, and therefore you, in business. </p><p>“Who is he?” You ask over the cheering for Misty beyond the curtain. </p><p>Big Mike’s grin widens, patting you gently on your naked shoulder softly, helping you rise from your cushioned seating, escorting you to the lush velvet you would be stepping out from beyond. He sets you in place and holds up three sausage fingers as Misty saunters in from beyond the curtain. </p><p>He lights a fat cigar when you blink at him, attention solely focused on him. </p><p>“The mayor.” You nod. He’s always here when you dance, never missing a show or his wife when he’s here for that matter. “Mr. Marvick.” Ah, your other big client who owns several banks. He was a sleazy horn-dog as well, always trying to touch you while you were on the stage. He takes a drag from his cigar as the lights dim, your cue coming up shortly. </p><p>“And?” You hiss, brows furrowing in the dim light toward your boss. </p><p>“And…” he chuckles, his eyes turning a little dark as the countdown hits the last three final chimes. “You’ll know him when you see him.”</p><p>—<br/>
“Hyung,” Mark says quietly as he looks over to his boss dressed in his finest suit, his rings - that he’s attained by wiping out all the other mob and gang bosses in the area - glitter off the flashing lights of the clubs as he smokes his cigar. Mark’s rich, observant eyes narrow as his slim tongue darts out of his mouth, sniffing the area of the club. His pupil slits as he picks up a predator's scent he didn’t recognize over the haze of smoke and alcohol coating the air. “The Tigers are here.” </p><p>A small grin creeps up the side of his boss’s mouth, revealing a dimple etched onto his beautifully pale face. He exhales a giant cloud of smoke from his stogie. It passes beyond his electric blue locks, billowing it up into the air of the night club, watching as it seemingly gets thicker, devouring everything and anything in its path as it rises higher into the rafters. He says nothing as he ashes the tip of the fat cigar, glancing to Mark instead and nodding with the devious smirk plastered upon his handsome face still. </p><p>“Where are they?!” Comes the bark of Donghyuck next to Mark, banging his tan fist onto the glass table at the end of the stage, not watching the pretty lady swing around the pole like the boss told them to before they walked in here. </p><p>Donghyuck’s teeth were grit, jaw muscles right as he seethed, low growl ripping through his throat. Mark has seen the maknae mad before, but it always catches him off guard. Usually the kid is happy-go-lucky and not the snarling hybrid that was gripping his cocktail in his free hand. “I’ll kill them for hurting hyung like they did!”</p><p>Mark knows them being here is a scare tactic, meant to threaten the rival gang that proclaims that they “own” this turf. “Their turf”...That couldn’t be the furthest thing from the truth. His boss secured this area a long time ago, but had not taken up residency in the area for a prolonged period of time. Too long now perhaps that’s why the local spike in crime has shot up again. The riff-raff in this town doesn’t know who obliterated the competition in the first place. </p><p>Hopefully the Tigers can be smart enough to remember this when the Dragons come knocking on their door if they aren’t smart enough to keep up their nasty habits in the future. </p><p>Johnny chuckles as he downs a tequila shot, his hair firmly placed with pomade over the side of his face as he tilts his chin back. “Don’t worry,” his calm voice doesn’t match the gleam in his golden stare across the crowds of the younger two at the table. “I’ve got my eye on them.” He flips his empty shot glass over on the glass table, revealing a giant toothy grin in between his smile. </p><p>The lights suddenly dim as a sultry voice plays on the loudspeaker rings out, breaking the concentration from their current conversation. Men from all over the club scramble over each other, clawing and panting at a chance to climb over the ropes of the VIP section, the booths at the end of the main stage housing the clubs most influential patrons such as themselves tonight. </p><p>Johnny leans forward, golden eyes peeling away over the heads of the younger boys, focused on the stage. “This must be what your investor told us was his rarest rose.” He cocks a brow and glances over to the boss. </p><p>The boss of the group puffs on his cigar, smirk falling from his perfect lips, orange and gold irises dilate, nostrils flare, picking up her scent over the noxious sea of smells in the club.</p><p>The oldest male smiles as the table of boys quiets down, hoping they could have a little fun while they size up the gang from across the other side of the room. A foot slides around the curtain, as the collective club hushes, letting the next woman on the stage show the men what she’s got. Good, Johnny nods to himself, the boss needs to take his eyes off of maps of territory and money and “business deals” and focus on a pretty gem for once. </p><p>———-</p><p>‘You’ll know him when you see him…’ </p><p>Your cue hits and you wrap your leg coated in your sparkly lotion out from behind the velvet fabric, mouthing the words, as the slow, seductive song rings out beyond the curtain. </p><p>Show time.<br/>
The routines you do were not like the other girls with flashy tricks, lights and music, or incredible upper body strength on the pole. (Boy, you hated saying that. You weren’t like other girls. Hard eye roll. Who cares.) Not that they were bad - oh, no! in fact, you thought your shows were boring in comparison. You could never win against Candy on the pole. She was like a beautiful acrobat, flipping and twirling around herself, her blonde hair traveling through the air as she enchanted everyone around with her strength and grace. </p><p>But you couldn’t do that. </p><p>You’ve tried. You have the bruises to prove it. It just wasn’t for you. You were a much better dancer and temptress, leading up to the final dish that was the self proclaimed “princess of the pole”. You could bend and split and twirl, but on the pole or with another person in synchronized rhythm like the twins do was another story. </p><p>Burlesque inspired, peep show, strip tease routines were more of your groove now. That’s earned you the name Vintage. And you graciously flaunt that term. You showed off as much skin as you could, but you weren’t in the game for giving your whole body away for the price of admission or some dollar bills on stage. </p><p>Maybe that was the allure then? Men love to yearn for something they know they can’t attain easily. Which makes sense why the mayor and Mr. Maverick are here religiously when you take to the stage.</p><p>You close your eyes as you twist around the velvet, letting yourself go - being enveloped in the words the singer was portraying, the thrumming of the stringed bass, and the soulful sound of the piano keys. </p><p>The single spotlight upon your face was hard to get used to when you first started, blinding you, making you squint as you round the corner and onto the stage. You always trembled in your heels, faltering when you walked the hard surface of the tile. Your heart used to beat right out of your chest as you timidly looked at the faces of the crowd, shying away from the men who lick their lips in anticipation at the sheer sight of you.</p><p>Now, you look them all dead in the eyes as you walk to the middle of the stage, smiling, closing your own smokey painted eyes, fluttering your lashes as you turn, coyly looking over your shoulder. The once quiet men lose it as they see the backside of your outfit. A giant red bow plastered above the swell of your ass, a big slit of exposed skin laced like a corset running from the middle of your backside all the way down to the floor, revealing an almost naked strip of exposed skin. </p><p>They yell and cheer as ‘Skyfall’ continues to echo off the walls of the club. </p><p>You take off a pleather purple glove, peeling it off slowly as you catch the sight of the mayor, Dennis O'Malley the Third, holding a fifty out near the end of the stage, his golden wedding band sparkling in the spotlight. Your red lips curl up as the song reaches the chorus. You lean over winking as you take the money from the corrupt man with your freed arm, men crowding around the ropes and booths, craning their necks as you expose your cleavage - back and front - to these men around you.</p><p>“Lookin’ fine tonight, doll.” He purrs when you snatch the cash from him. You smile through his sour breath, tainted stale and vile from his cigars and alcohol, securing the green inside your bra. Big Mike is gracious to you, letting you keep the money you earn on the floor, as long as he takes 40% of your hourly wage. It wasn’t easy to get here, but you were one of the most sought after dancers on this stage and you’d be damned if you didn’t get paid what you were worth. </p><p>With a wink and roll of your shoulders you stand to your heels, on your way to the other side of the stage to go stroke the money man’s inflated ego. </p><p>Mr. Maverick.<br/>
You miss the way several eyes linger on your backside for a moment too long. </p><p>You lean over to the man wiggling two hundred dollar bills in the air, sliding another glove off. He catches your hand in his greasy grip. You watch the sweat bead off his gnarly looking brow as he grins up to you in jest. With all your might, you try not to look at the glimmering gold tooth rooted on one of his canines. He kisses your naked hand as you connect to his chubby fingers, just wanting to nab the large bills, but fail. </p><p>“Watch it, Marty.” You whisper only so the money-man can hear you, trying not to break your character. His beady eyes light with fire behind them as he kisses your skin once more, planting his cracked, dry lips on the middle of the back of your hand. </p><p>“You know how to rile me up, babe.” Marty Maverick backs up, letting your fingers slip from his as the club security starts to make their way toward him. </p><p>I can’t wait to go home and shower and scrub the sin off of my skin. </p><p>You saunter back down the stage exposing your backside to the crowd as the orchestra pounds the walls of the club, the men hollar and whistle at your hips you roll side to side. You collect all sorts of green, fun coupons as you call them, and you are silently glad you wore the red wig tonight. Your eyes scan the men lining the sides of the stage and although you are faced with a bunch of familiar faces and regular patrons of the club, you don’t see the third party you are looking for. </p><p>‘You’ll know him when you see him…’ Big Mike’s words ring out in your ears as the song is coming to a close. Your routine is almost over which means it’s time to head back to the center of the stage. </p><p>Oh, ho! I didn’t know Big Mike is letting children into the club now? You ponder as you glance at the brown eyes of two kids holding up five one hundred dollar bills in your direction, squished between taller, bigger gentlemen. They are around the same height so at first they look like they could be brothers, but as you steady your gaze upon them. </p><p>One was as pale as moonlight with dark hair, with streaks of blonde going through it, his big eyes trained on you, a skinny tongue darting out to wet his lips frequently. The other had rich, honey colored skin and chestnut colored hair, whose mouth was formed into a little “o” shape as he glances at you sauntering to them on the stage. </p><p>Maybe it’s one of their birthdays or something? Your smile as you ignore the rest of the crowd, deciding to focus on them the last few seconds of your song. They are too cute! You think batting your eyelashes at them. </p><p>They stare upon awe at you as you lean over the stage so that the top portion of your chest is front and center for them to gawk at. One of your hands comes out to brush the side of the pale one’s cheek lightly, as you mouth the song to him, your other hand undoes the ribbon on your backside, letting the skin-tight glittering silk fall to the edges of the stage, revealing shimmering, diamond encrusted, dangling bra and thong set. </p><p>Every man with a lust for you is collectively losing their cool right now and you are eating it up as you snatch the bills from the pale boy as his eyes are transfixed to the swell of your ass you raise behind you. With a smirk, you roll over your dress as the prop master, Luciano, collects quickly and quietly. You continue thrusting your hips, to the beat of the song, rising your chest as you shut the jaw of the tan young boy, curling your finger along the jawbone of the young man who gulps in response. </p><p>They are going to sleep well tonight! You laugh to yourself in your head as you flip yourself back to your knees. </p><p>You smile as you continue dipping your hips the way a cat would if it was in heat, closing your eyes, returning to your knees, rubbing your glistening, naked thighs, throwing your head back with a roll of your neck. </p><p>Oh...</p><p>When you open your painted lids once Adele hits her final note, you find two glittering icy blue eyes boring down upon you from beyond the two young boys. The strong influence they command almost makes you snap yourself out of your routine, holding your gaze with such a vivid voracity. There was an undeniable air of power and control around him, like the city's largest paramount of wealth and statue comes from this single man.</p><p>And unbeknownst to you, it honestly does. </p><p>His rings glint in the dim spotlight that was fading on you. Even the smoke rising from in between his “M” shaped lips seems to be more powerful than the weak haze that it cuts through easily. His lips curve up, revealing dimples as his gaze is piercing you. This man is powerful, holding your own gaze like a thumbtack to a piece of paper. His jaw is sharp, his cheekbones high as he hardly blinks, holding you firmly in place as you almost forget to do your job, righting yourself to your feet as the noises from the crowd swells. Pieces of his electric blue hair dangle over his eyes, making your breathing hitch in your throat. </p><p>This is him! You agree to yourself in your head. You bow several times as the crowd roars, chanting for an encore they know they’ll never get. Though he doesn’t seem human...He wasn’t at the foot of the stage like you thought he would be, but this man wasn’t like the other two scumbags in this club. But no, this man is different. You can tell by the weighty stare, the passionate yet cold, calculated look in his eyes. </p><p>Making a daring choice, you take the rose Big Mike placed in your hair and toss it over the heads at the end of the stage, praying that you are a good enough throw that it lands on the striking man’s table. The red flower flies through the air and for a moment you are worried it has gotten too far away from your target. </p><p>Please, please, please don’t have me miss! </p><p>Success! You think with a smile as he catches it with a languid smirk on his pretty face, bringing it to his nose to take a deep inhale of the plant. This is the first time he’s broken eye contact with you, closing his lids slowly, breathing in the scent of the flower. It was oddly sensual watching him do this while you continue to bow and smile and wave on stage, the spotlight fading once you look for his fiery yet icy gaze only to find that his orbs were now an amber brown color. He holds up the flower like one would a toast with a flute of champagne as Candy, the final act of the evening is announced over the loudspeakers. </p><p>Huh…. weird. You note as the light finally fades upon the stage, leaving you in the middle of a dark room to maneuver your way backstage to strip yourself out of your scantily-clad attire.</p><p>“Good job, baby.” Big Mike hearidly chuckles with a grin as you head back to the almost empty backstage area. He follows you as you unstuff your bra, placing it straight into a ziplock baggie in the depths of your duffle bag. “You gave em’ one helliva’ show tonight, Vintage!” </p><p>“You gotta watch Marty more, Mike.” Your brows furrow as you pull your t-shirt and jeans over your sparkling underwear set, slipping them on as Candy gets a loud cheering from the crowd. “Tonight he KISSED me!” You hold up the back of your hand pointing to the area where the smooch occured. </p><p>Big Mike sighs and apologizes, sitting down in Stacy's vacant seat. The other girls are free to go when they are done and that is exactly what you are about to do, having seen Candy’s show far too many times for your liking. “Sorry babe, he just spends a lot of money here - on you specifically.” He notes as you start shoving stuff into your bag, making hasty work to remove your wig, placing it in an empty bag you had in here just in case you were feeling particularly flighty after your shift. </p><p>You shake out your hair as it’s free from the pins, wig cap, and clips holding the faux red hair over your tresses. </p><p>“Who was that by the way?” You know he’ll know who you are talking about no problem as you start to remove your heavy makeup with a wipe, cleaning your face as the sea of men roar behind the curtain. </p><p>“A very old friend.” Big Mike smiles. “Maybe an ancient friend, one might say.” </p><p>You narrow your eyes toward him but don’t say anything further. Sometimes that man acts extremely strange or says the weirdest thing and you haven’t the slightest idea why. Your boss was just full of unusual quirks. You suppose, under a normal circumstance, that his qualities would almost be endearing, but, this wasn’t a “normal job” and you didn’t have the most normal relationship with your boss in the slightest. You’ve never treaded the waters of sleeping with the boss like some of the other girls have and you weren’t about to start. Not that he was implying that. </p><p>As you continue to scrub the makeup off your face, your boss gets a call on one of his many cell phones and abruptly leaves, praising you with a patting you on the shoulder once more.</p><p>Hmm, it’s been an odd night. You think, shaking your head slightly, grabbing your stuff and shutting off the vanity lights of your station. I wonder if there’s a full moon out or something? </p><p>Indeed, this was a strange night for you have no idea what creatures lurk in the shadows when you step out into the alley way after switching back into your sneakers and clocking out for the evening. </p><p>The alley where you sneak out of is extremely dark tonight and it felt ten times more eerie then it usually does. Maybe it was the fog that hangs low in the air, making it hard to see five feet in front of your nose? Maybe it was the star-less, dark night that blankets the city in the veil of blackness and mystery? Or maybe it simply was the overhead light that was out right above the door you float out of? </p><p>You burrow into your coat more, starting your trek to the parking garage that Big Mike owns two blocks down the street.</p><p>God, I forgot to ask for a security escort out! Dammit! You chastise yourself as you look over your shoulder to see the heavy door to the building close, not allowing for re-entry through the space. A one way door - if you will. Will a sigh you shift your duffle bag on your shoulder, venturing into the fog that surrounds the city. </p><p>I wonder who that man is? You think as you fish your keys out from your pocket, missing the way several pairs of eyes dart up to see you. You yawn, throwing your head back as your sneakers crunch the gravel and concrete under them as police sirens wail in the background. You grimace as you hear men cheer and bottles click, hitting the sides of trash cans beyond the alley. City noise. You start to walk quicker, unknowingly walking right into the danger that you are headed to.</p><p>Your head was just full of thoughts of home. You were just excited to have a real day off for once, just ready for your head to hit your pillow after your shower. </p><p>“Bossss….” Someone in front of you with a melliferous voice quietly hisses and you stop in your tracks. “Another one…”</p><p>Your eyes blow wide as you realize too late you had stepped into the spider's web. </p><p>Oh no...Your heart starts beating quickly. The blood rushes to your ears, drowning out the white noise of the city. Your nostrils flare as you see several people stand from the ground, the black masses rising from the wispy, thick fog. Your eyes expand as you take a step back. Oh, fuck! What am I going to do? I don’t know how to fight? Your mind races back to Dolly and you become incredibly concerned. Were you going to end up like her too? Was you fate sealed because of your profession? </p><p>“Oh, my…” A dark voice rings out in front of you, growling practically. “Aren’t you a beautiful creature, hmm?” </p><p>You quiver, your fight or flight response not kicking in, making you shell shocked as these large men come to create a half circle around you. </p><p>“Lissssten to her heart beat!” The same sensual voice purrs around you making you gulp, your blood running cold in your veins. You were so mad at yourself for not grabbing a security guard on the way to your car. All the little hairs on your body were stood alert as you continue to breathe heavily. What am I going to do? You continue to think, your eyes darting around rapidly. </p><p>“What a lovely ssssound!” Another evil voice rings out. You can’t make out their faces shrouded in the darkness and between the thick fog. </p><p>“Let’ssss have a little tasssste before we nab her, sssshall we?” The deep hissing voice growls as they start to slither towards you and you swear your breathing stops in this second. Are they...hissing at me?</p><p>They descend upon you, snickering and laughing darkly, beady red eyes blazing through the dark night visible now as they approach you, knives in their hands. Who were they? Were they going to kill you? Eat you? Do something vile to your body in the process of murdering you? Is this what happened to your former coworkers? You turn to run back in the direction you came from, but a large figure blocks your path back to the club, cutting off your escape route. Panic was setting in and your body was shutting down, standing stiff in the slimy faces of danger. Your palms and under arms are sweaty and arm, your forehead was creased as you try and plead with yourself to find a way out of the circle that was closing in. </p><p>Long teeth poke out over their bottom lips and your eyes grow so incredibly wide realizing what they are. What? Fangs? Those are fangs right and not incredibly long teeth?! Your melted mind was trying very hard to process the sparkling long canines grinning at you maliciously between wicked smirks and smiles of these strange men. </p><p>Your squirrelly brain automatically thinks of the news program on the television when you were leaving the house this afternoon. “Hybrids…” No...No. There’s no way they exist-?</p><p>The tornado of thoughts you have swirling in your head abruptly comes to a halt as car lights from behind you flick on and the revving of an engine cuts through the palpable layer of tension that looms over the circle of men surrounding you. Since you are so used to the spotlights on the stage, the headlights don’t bother you all that much. You make out that there are three men getting out of the vehicle, there’s some light chatter happening amongst themselves that you couldn’t make out but the men around you seem to stiffen.</p><p>“Who the fuck is thisss?” One of the men hisses next to you in a low whisper, beady red eyes trained on the men sauntering, swaying with a certain swagger to the circle of heathens. The one in the middle seemed to be smoking a strange smelling cigar, his rings glinting off the headlights that illuminate your situation.</p><p>You almost do a double take, noticing an opening in between two of the tall men and you decide you’ll make a break for it now that they are distracted; the three figures stepping from the shadows, revealing darkened blobs of themselves.</p><p>A large, clammy hand wraps around your arm and hoists you back to the middle of the circle. “No you don’t you, little harlot.” You wince and whimper in pain as you are roughly handled and placed back in the middle of the circle, your duffel bag falling as you struggle in the man’s iron grip. </p><p>““Dragonssss.” One of the bastards holding you narrows his slotted sockets at the three coming to stop several feet in front of the group of thugs. </p><p>“Salamanders?” One of the men speaks on the side of the man smoking his stogie, pointing an item in the direction of the circle. He cocks his head to the side leaning into the taller man in the middle while saying, “You are far away from your territory. This is Jung territory.” Your heart drops along with your jaw when you see the silver shine off the side of the item as the smaller one speaks clearly, a strong command in his tone as he points the pistol at the man holding you. The gross man pulls you flush to his body, flipping a knife to have the sharp blade pressed against your neck. You hear the click of a trigger being cocked back and your eyes blow wide, gulping a quick, anxious breath as you start to freak out. </p><p>This situation was too far over your head.</p><p>A gun. </p><p>“Want some help beautiful?” The man in the middle speaks, a smooth buttery baritone purring out of his pretty lips along with a cloud of smoke in the three men’s wake. </p><p>“Dragonssss!” The deep voice at the front of the circle snarls, pulling his own pistol from his waistband in his pants. “Back off our meal.”</p><p>“Smells like you already ate boys.” The other smaller figure chuckles as he reaches for something in his own pants, pulling two pistols from his back pockets, his voice brighter yet softer. “No need to be greedy!” He teases, a playful tone coming out in full swing which you found to be rather off putting in the middle of such a tense moment.</p><p>“Back the fuck off unlessss you want your headssss blown off!” The ring leader of this gang shouts, his deep voice carrying in the alleyway as this standoff was turning hostile. </p><p>You gasp quietly with a flinch again as you feel the sharp piece of metal cut into our throat, the sting of pain making your head spin. You shift as you feel a trickle of blood running down your windpipe. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! How were you going to get out of this now? You feel the corners of your eyes prick with tears and you want to scream seeing a freckled, dark hair face lying in a pool of her own blood outside the circle. Her her outfit smattered with blood, her mouth hanging open, her eyes glazed over </p><p>...Misty... </p><p>You close your eyes pooling with tears. Hearing them say “ate” and “taste” just truly ripped you to pieces. This was not what you wanted to hear. This was not what you wanted to see. This was nothing like your brain could fathom. </p><p>This is so much worse than you had initially thought was happening to your coworkers. </p><p>“Say you’ll be mine and only mine and I’ll help you.” You snap your eyes open as the man in the middle of the three figures seemingly speaks directly to you. You gasp when you look into his fiery irises. The fog separates just enough for you to make out what was happening. </p><p>He holds up your rose and inhales once more and your eyes fling open. The man from the club! Those eyes seem to change color, glowing icy blue once more as he puffs on his cigar. “Be mine and only mine and I’ll protect you for the rest of your life.”</p><p>“SSSShut up!” The man holding you seethes as you choke, the knife slicing deeper into your layers of flesh, jerking you around as the gang pulls guns out of their clothing, aiming it at the three in front of the car. </p><p>Every rational part of your brain was telling you should just accept death. Accept that you were weak and pathetic and nothing in this lifetime matters. Accept death instead of assistance from this man you don’t even know the name of. You didn’t know this man. You didn’t think you should trust this man. The faces of your kids you nanny pop into your head, their smiles and youthful innocence floats around your frazzled brain space. You know you shouldn’t accept help from this man.  </p><p>But this was survival of the fittest and you didn’t want to die quite yet.</p><p>“Please!” You scream, eyes wide yet matching his intensity of the middle man’s stare, hoping he sees you are serious. “Please help me!” The knife cuts you sideways as the man holding you decides to not play around anymore with you wiggling around. </p><p>The mystery man smiles as the gang loads their guns in response. He exhales a breath of thick smoke with a smirk on his pretty features, the air silent and still for a moment. He puts his lit cigar back in his mouth, turns from the scene, and snaps his fingers, saying, “Let em’ up, boys.”</p><p>It all happened too fast. </p><p>Shots were fired, but none of them hit you as you start to black out from the shock, finally sinking down into your bones. Nothing seems to hit the car or the two smaller men working in tandem, the three pistols between them serving as efficient weapons. They must be assassins or something you think as they ‘Salamanders’ crumple within the span of seconds. Bullets fly through the air, hitting their targets in the head with excellent skill and easy precision. This was making your head spin as a bullet lands right between the eyes of the man holding you hostage. He collapses backward, releasing you as the “Salamanders” start to fall one by one in a bloody heap onto the gravel below. </p><p>Your breathing hitches as it ends as quickly as it began. </p><p>“Get my fair flower, if you will please, boys?” The man smiles with mirth as he enters the large car that roars back to life, a fourth person in the driver's seat. </p><p>You are free, no more knife to your throat but these shorter men with smoking guns start to approach you calmly. </p><p>“Oh my god.” You whisper as you see the carnage littering the ground. You wanted to get away but here you are again, clutching your head as you try to keep your stomach from throwing up at the messy sight. You stumble around on your feet, mind reeling from the men’s bodies on the ground, your knees giving out as you try to right yourself. Your brain was a mess and you fear you are going to black out any moment now. </p><p>“We got you.” One of them says. You turn to face the one that speaks, fuzzy brain recognizing him as the boy with skin as beautiful as pale moonlight. His tongue darts out of his mouth and you swear it looks like a forked tongue.</p><p>The two smaller boys catch you, producing soft, genuine smiles on their faces as they carry you back to the car. </p><p>This was it huh? This was really happening? You are getting in the car with that mysterious man the two men you thought were children but are actually murders? </p><p>“...My...bag…” You mumble as the boy with the tan skin chuckles, placing you in the back seat of the sedan comfortably, hoping out of the car to fetch it for you. “...Dragons?...” You whisper and the boy with dark hair smiles with a nod as he places a blanket over your body.</p><p>You didn’t want to go with them. You were scared out of your wits, but this was what an exchange of service would be you think as your mind goes blank. </p><p>“Get ready to enter the dragon's lair, noona.” The tan boy smirks as he returns with your bag, hopping into the car as you finally pass out in the back of the sedan, whisked away to the throes of an unconscious state.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HOW DO YOU GUYS LIKE CHAPTER ONE SO FAR?! Please let me know! Love you all and thank you for your support as always!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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